Mixed Spirits
by incandescens
Summary: A Bleach / Doctor Who crossover. Fifth Doctor, with Nyssa, Adric, and Tegan. Probably not going to be particularly serious. Except in bits. In which, as so often happens, the Pursuit of Truth causes a Major Explosion.
1. Chapter 1

**MIXED SPIRITS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Inside the TARDIS, as Nyssa understood it, was an infinite space. Outside it was also an infinite space. And there were a finite number of TARDISes, which meant a finite number of infinities contained within a likewise infinity, which meant -

- sometimes she was glad she was a biochemist rather than a mathematician. She wondered if longterm consideration of such issues was a contributing factor to Time Lord mentality. It would explain a great deal.

Inside the TARDIS, however, at the moment, was also an argument. This was by no means unusual. It was somewhat louder than usual, but that was because the Doctor was shouting in order to make himself heard from underneath the console.

Tegan had her hands on her hips. She was back in that air hostess uniform again, Nyssa noted. "I don't understand why you can spare all this time to fiddle with the stupid TARDIS controls if you can't get me home! If fiddling with them will make it go to the right place in the first place, why couldn't you have fiddled earlier!"

"Because," the Doctor grunted patiently, "I'm homing in on a signal." His legs protruded from under the console. One hand emerged and groped around. Adric put a tool in it. The hand retreated again. "And Heathrow doesn't give off this type of signal."

Tegan bristled. "You're telling me that Heathrow doesn't give off a signal you can track?"

"Exactly!" the Doctor called back, his voice having a depth and echo to it that shouldn't be natural for someone in the same room who'd just stuck his head under a piece of machinery. "You've got it!"

"Why not?"

There was a pause.

"That is," Tegan clarified, "why can't you - in the future, after we've Ibeen/I to Heathrow, you know - put some sort of transmission thing there so in the past you'll be able to find it and won't keep on getting Ilost/I?"

"That's against the Laws of Time," the Doctor said quickly.

"It sounds plausible," Adric said thoughtfully. "That's really clever, Tegan. I wouldn't have thought you'd think of that."

Tegan frowned at him. "So how come you didn't?"

"I don't want to go to Heathrow," Adric said. "I want to go back to E-Space. And that reminds me, Doctor -"

"Nyssa," the Doctor broke in, with more than a trace of desperation to his voice, "give me a readout from the dials I've marked. Please?"

Nyssa leaned over. "Zero zero three point two zero point seven zero rho pi sigma seventy-nine."

"That's interesting." The Doctor dragged himself out from under the console. "Earth! Twenty-first century Earth. And the most interesting thing is that while that is actually -"

"Heathrow?" Tegan interrupted hopefully.

"Japan, actually." The Doctor gave her a disapproving look. "But while it's Japan, it's also paralleling it in space-time. In fact, if I just adjust the dials to get a precise lock-on and synchronisation . . ."

* * *

It was another perfect day in Hueco Mundo.

Ulquiorra reflected calmly on the glorious promise of existence that lay before him like a gutted enemy. All was well in this best of all possible worlds, and the future was looking even better, with Aizen-sama guiding them all towards a glorious victory. He allowed himself a few seconds of self-congratulation on his position as most trusted agent of the future god and ruler of all existence.

"Looking good, ain't it?" Ichimaru Gin said directly behind him.

Ulquiorra diverted his thoughts from the immediate consideration of a glorious future that did not include Ichimaru Gin, preferably due to the latter's agonising death, but with side-options on discovery of said latter's inevitable treachery by Ulquiorra himself, or possibly falling heroically in battle against overwhelming shinigami forces, and turned to bow politely. "Yes, Ichimaru-sama," he agreed. "Aizen-sama's latest experiment is most promising."

"Don't suppose you know what it is?" Ichimaru asked.

"That has not been revealed to me," Ulquiorra stated forbiddingly.

"Mmm."

The two of them turned to regard the construct of leashed reiatsu and non-Euclidean mechanisms which Aizen Sousuke was pacing round thoughtfully. In the background, other Arrancar lurked near the walls in thoughtful poses.

"Ah, Gin," Aizen said without turning around. "What do you think?"

"Interesting noises," Ichimaru said, his habitual smirk growing as he sauntered towards the device. "Is this another thing to do with the - you know?"

Aizen tipped one hand vaguely. "There is a connection. But this is more of a way of channelling power. Crude and rather basic, of course, and an application of some of the more destructive kidou techniques combined with binding ones for a bootstrapping effect -"

The device's glow suddenly intensified to a vivid white even purer than an Arrancar's robes. Ulquiorra reflected, as he rapidly took cover, how good it was to work for a genius who not only understood but positively Iapproved/I survival instinct in his creations.

"Yoruichi!" Urahara's voice carolled out merrily.

Yoruichi settled herself more comfortably on the cushion.

"Yoruichi!" He appeared in the doorway, fan raised happily.

She flicked an ear at him.

"Something terrible must have happened!" He was grinning. "There's been a huge trans-etheric sub-meso-astral collision of some sort. Leaves buildings standing, plasters Hollows on the ceiling, the usual. Come on! We need to investigate! Our services are required!"

"Take an aspirin and call me in the morning," Yoruichi grunted, and buried her head under her tail as she tried to resume her interrupted nap.

A pity, Ulquiorra thought as he surveyed the sparking remains of the device. Aizen-sama had been so interested in it.

"Oh, don't worry," Aizen said, with that easy understanding he always showed of those around him. "It'll be simple enough to reconstruct, and it was accessing a significant amount of power towards the end. This might actually be the best way to fully empower the . . ." He glanced across towards Ichimaru Gin, and blinked. "Gin? Are you all right?"

Ichimaru Gin was bracing himself against the wall with one hand, staring at his own fingers as if they surprised him. He'd lost his customary smile. "Curiouser and curiouser," he said, and collapsed in a heap.

Aizen snapped his fingers. "Take him to the infirmary," he told the low-grade Arrancar who scuttled to his side. "Have Tousen see to him."

* * *

"The input bar! That input bar!" Adric shouted at Nyssa, throwing a set of switches on the console.

Nyssa bit back what she would have liked to say - she knew perfectly well which the input bar was, she'd been with the Doctor for a while now and unlike some people, Ishe/I paid attention - and forced down the input bar, avoiding the charred and smoking section of the console. "How is he?" she called to Tegan.

Tegan had dragged the unconscious Doctor away from the console and was slapping his face hopefully. "He's not waking up," she reported. "Can you land this thing?"

Adric swallowed. "I think we're going to have to hope it stays on course. He'd already set the TARDIS to follow that trail. We're probably going to end up wherever it is."

The viewscreen showed a swirling pattern of stars and space.

"Oh, great," Tegan muttered.

"Don't worry," Adric said hastily. "I'm almost certain we've got crash protocols - that button! No, that one!"

The three of them held onto the protruding parts of the console while the TARDIS came to a rocking, juddering stop.

Nyssa couldn't help noticing that Adric had had his fingers crossed.

Tegan pointed at the viewscreen, which showed a suburban-looking exterior. "If that's Japan, at least it's a city."

"As opposed to?" Nyssa enquired.

"Oh. Mountains. Seashore. Being stuck," Tegan added, with what Nyssa felt was unwarranted feeling, "in some sort of historical period with a whole mob of lunatics with swords trying to kill you. You know, the sort of thing we usually -"

The Doctor coughed and stirred faintly.

"We should give him brandy," Tegan suggested, diverted. "Do you know where he keeps it?"

"Alcohol is unhealthy and an intoxicant," Adric said primly. "Maybe we should crush his celery."

Nyssa knelt down next to the Doctor, on the other side from Tegan. "Doctor? Can you hear us?"

The Doctor's eyelids fluttered. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at the two girls. "I need a doctor?" he said vaguely.

"No," Tegan said patiently. "You are the Doctor. We've got to wherever it is. Are you okay?"

"It don't look that way," the Doctor whispered faintly, and his eyes shut again.

"Right." Tegan stood up, brushing her hands clean. "Looks like we're going to have to wait for him to come round before we go exploring -" She gave Adric, who had been about to speak, a very pointed glare. "Unless Iyou/I can fix up a detector to find whatever that was."

Adric sighed and hung his head.

"Fine. Go find that wheelchair."

As Adric slouched off, Nyssa frowned. "Did the Doctor sound at all strange to you, just then?"

Tegan thought about it, then shook her head. "Naah. Concussion. That's all."

Nyssa nodded. "True." She rose from her knees, and walked across to the console. "I'll get the readings for when he comes round. He'll want to know everything we can find out about this -" She checked the readouts. "Karakura place."


	2. Chapter 2

**MIXED SPIRITS**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Ichimaru Gin drifted back to consciousness slowly and reluctantly. He had the feeling that this was being a bad day, though memory was a little shady on the details.

Someone was soothing his fevered brow. Could it be Rangiku? Maybe the whole taking over creation and standing in the place of god thing had just been a beautiful dream . . .

"I can pilot the TARDIS perfectly well," a young male voice declared nearby. "We can let the Doctor rest and recover."

That didn't _sound_ like Fourth Division.

Come to think of it, whoever it was wasn't speaking Japanese either. And yet he understood him perfectly.

"You have got to be joking," a woman's voice replied. "You know you can't pilot the TARDIS. I know you can't pilot the TARDIS. We all know you can't pilot the TARDIS -"

"Excuse me," a third voice broke in. Female, aristocratic. The cool cloth passed over Gin's forehead again. "I think you're disturbing him."

Gin quickly moderated his breathing to I-am-still-asleep and tried to work out what felt so odd about his body. Less muscle, wrong clothing, no sense of Shinsou -

His eyes flew open.

"He's awake," Miss Aristocratic announced. She was a pretty girl with dark fluffy curls. "I told you -"

"Doctor!" The boy now grabbing his hand reminded Gin of Hitsugaya in a way he couldn't quite place. "Are you all right?"

"Back off, Adric," the second woman said, with a rasping sigh to her voice that suggested it wasn't for the first time. "Don't crowd him."

"Doctor?" Miss Aristocratic asked, bending to look down into his face. "How do you feel?"

"Doctor who?" Gin asked.

"Oh hell," Miss Loud said. "He's got mental problems again. And we haven't even got the Zero Room this time."

"You're the Doctor," Miss Aristocratic said patiently. "You're a Time Lord from Gallifrey and you travel through time and space in the TARDIS. We're friends whom you brought along with you. You were investigating an odd set of power readings when something went wrong and it exploded. We've landed in a place called Karakura in Japan. Early twenty-first century, human time."

Gin brought his hand up to rub at his forehead, and not incidentally to run his fingers over his face and get a better look at the sleeve of his coat. No wonder he'd felt as if he was in an ill-fitting gigai. He effectively _was_. In this Doctor's body, whoever this Doctor person was.

With a machine that travelled through time and space. And several innocent young friends who apparently trusted him implicitly. In Karakura.

Gin curved his mouth into a smile. "All coming back to me," he assured the three of them. "Remind me what your names are again, mm?"

* * *

The Doctor drifted back to consciousness slowly and placidly. Clearly something dramatic had happened. However, he was lying down on a bed of some sort and the place smelled clean (and oddly sterile, investigate this later) and he wasn't chained or anything like that, so clearly matters could be worse. But there was something odd about his clothing and his body. Something off-kilter.

Someone else was close to the bed. He could hear their breathing.

He opened his eyes.

White ceiling. White room. White sheets.

He flicked a glance sideways from under his lashes at the person near the bed. Tall man. Sitting down. Sleeveless robe. Visor over his eyes.

"You have awoken," the man commented flatly. "There is little point in hiding it, Ichimaru."

"Just resting my eyes," the Doctor said cheerfully, and sat upright. The room tilted a little but didn't fall over. "How long have, ah -"

"You have been unconscious for several hours," the man reported. There was no real emotion to his words or expression. "How do you feel?"

The Doctor flexed his shoulders, hands, fingers. He was wearing a long robe in white. A sword was lying on a small table by the bed. As he caught sight of it, something seemed to whisper at the back of his mind for a moment, then subsided, somehow disappointed.

"Adequate," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to perch there. "How about yourself?"

"I was not involved in the explosion," the man said, with an inflection to his voice which suggested that he would never have been so careless, so stupid, or so generally incapable. "I believe you were the only person caught in it."

"Ah well." The Doctor shrugged, then put a hand to his head delicately. No, not quite falling off, just feeling as if it was about to. "I take it the equipment itself is a write-off?"

"The peripherals. But Ulquiorra said that the Hougyoukou itself is stable."

"Good, good," the Doctor agreed, and made several mental notes.

"For now, Aizen-sama wishes to see you. He is in the throne room. I believe it is to discuss the coming offensive. Are you capable of walking?"

"Let's find out," the Doctor said, and stood up. "It would seem so! Will you be coming too?"

"Of course," the man said coldly.

"Lead on," the Doctor said hopefully.

"Your zanpakutou." The man gestured to where the sword lay on the table. There was a general impression of raised eyebrows from behind the blank visor.

"I'll forget my own head next," the Doctor said hastily, picking up the sheathed blade and sliding it into his sash.

The man led the way out with stiff back and expressive shoulders.

* * *

Gin tried not to stare too much at the large thing in the middle of the "control room". It looked like one of Kurotsuchi's more expansive daydreams, big smoking hole in it and all.

"So that's where it blew up?" he asked the boy Adric.

Adric nodded importantly, clearly taking pride in being the one who knew the most about what was going on. Gin had worked out the rough power structure while they were all trying to "remind" him what had been happening. The Doctor himself was some kind of maverick, and the three youngsters were effective refugees or tourists along for the ride. The boy Adric and the girl Nyssa had some scientific training, but the girl Tegan was just straight muscle. The TARDIS itself . . .

. . . there was a kind of murmuring at the back of his mind where Shinsou ought to be, a presence, a great weight of age that for the moment wasn't trying to do anything. He wasn't sure what he would do if it did. He wondered how one talked to it.

"Hm." He smiled cheerfully at the three youngsters, and saw them twitch a bit. He must not have got the grin quite right yet. "Well! Guess we have to explore and find out what's going on, then."

That seemed to reassure them, which in itself said quite a lot about this Doctor's character. "So, 'bout weapons . . ." he offered speculatively.

They all three looked at him with wide eyes. It was Nyssa who finally said, "_Weapons_, Doctor?"

"I mean, they may be armed," he backtracked hastily. "Could be some kind of backtracking device caused this." He patted the console, then hastily snatched his hand away as something inside it sparked. "I want you to be careful."

He himself planned to be very careful. Walking around without a weapon was high on his scale of idiocies, ranking up there with turning one's back to an aggrieved subordinate or giving an opportunity to an enemy.

"Don't worry, Doctor!" Adric said cheerfully. "Of course we'll be - Tegan, do you _have_ to be like that?"

Tegan stopped coughing meaningfully. "Can't you just track the disturbances from inside the TARDIS, Doctor?"

"Ah." Gin decided not to pat the console again. "But if they could do this once and blow up our tracker, who's to say they couldn't do it again? We've gotta look into this on the ground level. Cast a careful eye around. Spy out the territory."

"And you've always got the sonic screwdriver," Adric chirped merrily.

"So I do," Gin agreed, and resolved to keep the boy around. Helpful. Convenient. Not very perceptive. It almost made up for being stuck with a screwdriver instead of a proper zanpakutou.

All kinds of possible advantages here. Perhaps he wasn't going to take this to Aizen-taichou _immediately_.

* * *

"So, tell me," Urahara said, "have you noticed any strange reiatsu occurrences recently? Heard any odd noises? Perceived any changes in the fabric of reality?"

"No," Ichigo said, and wished that Urahara was anywhere other than his windowsill.

"Have there been some?" Rukia asked from where she was sitting on the floor. "Is Aizen Sousuke trying something? Those Arrancar things?"

"We don't know." Urahara scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his cane. "There have been some very interesting readings, suggesting a reality collision at the sub-principle level -"

Ichigo raised his eyebrows hopefully at Rukia. She shrugged.

"- with mesonic refractions and reverberations through all pertubations of existence!" Urahara finished.

"Oh," Ichigo said. "I didn't notice anything."

"Nor did I," Rukia agreed. "Perhaps there was a mistake somewhere?"

Urahara adjusted his hat meaningfully. "I'll go and check with the other shinigami in town. Maybe one of _them_ will have noticed something."

"Didn't Renji notice anything?" Rukia asked. "I'd have thought he'd be with you now."

Urahara shrugged. "He didn't hear anything at the time, but he said he was going off to do his own investigating. Went stampeding down the street like a herd of wolves. That boy has no subtlety."

Ichigo was about to agree when he remembered that this might cause Rukia to kick him painfully in the kidneys, so he just waved goodbye in the hopes that Urahara would take the hint.

"Don't worry," Rukia said, once the shopkeeper's sinister shadow was gone from their window. "If Renji does run into anything, the whole town will know about it."

Ichigo sighed. "Wonderful. Now can we get back to my mathematics homework?"

* * *

The Doctor followed his companion into a spacious hall. It was clearly designed to focus all eyes on the man lounging in a throne at the far end.

Well, that made all sorts of things clear.

He copied the other man's half-bow and murmured, "Aizen-sama," as they approached the throne, glancing around from under half-closed eyes. (Odd. It seemed the natural facial expression for this body. Did the original owner like wandering around half-blind or something?) Everyone was in white, as if it was some sort of military uniform. Not everyone looked strictly human. Some of the entities trying to blend into the wall at various points had interesting additions, such as wings or horns . . .

"Gin," the man on the throne said pleasantly. There was something about his voice that flipped every single one of the Doctor's **Would-Be Overlord Of Universe, Mad, Bad, And Dangerous To Know** personal mental signals. "I trust that you are recovered?"

"In excellent health," the Doctor said cheerfully, hoping that this Gin fellow didn't have any odd speech patterns. "Sorry to have got in the way."

Aizen waved a casual hand. "Think nothing of it. Have you any thoughts about what it might have been?"

Now was this a trick question? Or a genuine desire for suggestions? The Doctor hesitated. "It could have been a direct collision with some sort of scanning wave operating on the same frequencies," he hazarded. "Or deliberate interference."

Aizen nodded as though the Doctor had confirmed something he'd already been thinking of. "Precisely. And that brings one name to mind, doesn't it?"

The Doctor nodded soberly, and hoped that Aizen was about to answer his own question. It was amazing how often megalomaniacs did that.

"Urahara Kisuke," the other man cut in. "Kurotsuchi Mayuri is unlikely to have the capabilities."

"Indeed, Tousen," Aizen said with an approving smile. "And this in turn suggests that Urahara is worryingly close to our lines of research. I think that action is needed."

"Allow me to volunteer," the Doctor said, taking a step forward and sweeping a glance around in his best imitation of the Master. "I am sure I can guarantee . . . results."

Aizen raised an eyebrow. "You do seem to feel strongly about it, Gin. Perhaps a little too personally?"

The Doctor hastily tried to dial back the _Brooding Schemer In Black With Beard And Gloves_ ambiance that he knew so well. He shrugged. "I dislike being caught in random explosions. It feels so casual."

"Even so." Aizen rose from the throne. "I think, for the moment, that Tousen will see to this. Tousen, attend me; we will discuss which of the Arrancar you are to take with you. Gin, I'll discuss this with you - later. Over tea."

The Doctor bowed. At least they drank tea here. A single ray of light in an otherwise really rather depressing scenario. And what would his companions be doing, if this Gin person had possession of _his_ body? Sitting on it and chaining it up, he rather hoped.

After all, they'd be bound to notice that something was wrong.

* * *

Gin carefully operated the big lever that Adric had pointed out to him, smiled at the viewscreen, and listened unobtrusively to the sotto voce conversation going on in the corridor behind him.

"But he's talking all weird now!" Tegan was objecting.

"It could be a temporary change of dialect," Nyssa pointed out. "Remember the problems we had with the regeneration? He kept on slipping between different vocal styles then."

"And he keeps on giving me . . ." A pause. "Funny looks."

"Funny how?"

"You know. _Funny._"

Gin sighed a little. He would have to be more careful. It wasn't as if he'd got very far with his plans about how to dispose of the girl, but clearly she was unusually sensitive about people eyeing her with intent to murder.

"Perhaps he's got a headache. You have been shouting a bit."

"Adric deserved it!" Another pause. Tegan lowered her voice. "And there was the weapons thing."

"That was strange," Nyssa agreed. "For a moment I thought he was seriously asking where we kept weapons in the TARDIS."

When he was sole lord and master of this contraption, Gin resolved, its apparently infinite rooms and corridors would be extremely well stocked.

"Totally unlike him. I was seriously weirded out."

"I think we'd better keep an eye on him," Nyssa concluded. "If he starts getting tired or having a headache or anything, we can suggest that he comes back to the TARDIS to rest. But don't tell him. He'd just insist that he was fine."

"You got it," Tegan agreed.

The two of them entered the control room together, with a suspicious air of collaboration that would have intrigued Gin if he hadn't already known what was going on. Adric was a few minutes behind.

"Well." Gin gave them the smile that he'd perfected for those moments when he wanted to look innoffensive and innocent. It seemed to work. "Shall we go exploring?"

"Absolutely," Nyssa said.

"Let's do it," Tegan agreed.

Adric was already operating the door lever. With a friendly tousle of the boy's hair (proper training would commence later), Gin strode out into Karakura Town, and let the other three follow him.

Cute. The TARDIS thing _was_ smaller on the outside than the inside. He definitely had to keep it. Definitely.


	3. Chapter 3

**MIXED SPIRITS**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Dubious as the whole situation was, Tegan was actually rather enjoying this Karakura place. It seemed . . . normal. No screaming mobs. No androids. No huge snakes trying to possess her. No would-be universal conquerors with bad taste in black velvet. No giant frogs. No attempts to launch plagues. No people with guns shoving them up her nose.

She decided to investigate one of the upmarket fashion shops. Who knew? Maybe it would be a secret hub of intergalactic interference.

* * *

"You are to stay here," Tousen said coldly. "Remain in your gigai. Attempt not to attract attention. Observe the goings-on around you."

"You mean we don't get to kill anything?" Grimmjow asked, finger up his nose thoughtfully.

"Moron," Ulquiorra said, scrutinising the horizon broodingly. "Aizen-sama's instructions were for secrecy and observation. To rampantly slaughter all those around us would attract attention." He thought about it, and decided that Grimmjow's question had a fragment of merit to it. "Unworthy trash as they are."

Il Forte tossed his hair. "We should look on this as an opportunity to know our enemy. It will make the eventual strike that much more - satisfying."

_After all_, Tousen reassured himself as he quietly walked away, _it's not as if Aizen-sama sent any of the really annoying ones with me._

* * *

Gin followed Adric, amused at the boy's puppylike enthusiasm. "Ain't you seen shops before?" he asked lightly.

Adric drooped. "You know what Alzarius was like, Doctor. Shops weren't really . . . a priority. And since then, well. It's been really interesting, but we don't seem to end up in any ordinary places."

Gin patted Adric's shoulder. "Remember, ya gotta be careful. There's something out here that blew up the controls. We can't trust nothing."

Adric looked up at him with big trusting eyes. "That isn't what you normally say, Doctor. You're normally telling me that there's good in everyone, and that everyone deserves a chance, and that people will be much more reasonable if you meet them as friends . . ."

More of the Doctor's personality became clear with every word. Gin was astonished the fellow had survived this long. "But," he said, raising a finger, "this time we know they're hostile, mm? If'n you want to be my second in command -"

"Me?" Adric broke in.

Oops. "Well," Gin backtracked, "if you want to look at it that way."

Adric took a deep breath. "You know you can trust me, Doctor. Not like the girls. Tegan just gets confused and Nyssa's far too nice and open. But you really trust me that much?"

"Sure I do," Gin said, doing his best to put conviction and sincerity into his tone. "And because I'm trusting you, I'm telling you something that I ain't told the girls yet. I think an old enemy of mine -"

"The Master?" Adric interrupted.

Now there was a name with the right sort of resonance to it. "Yes," Gin said indulgently. "I'm thinking maybe he might be involved."

"At least we know what he looks like," Adric said. "But I can see why you wouldn't want to tell the girls. They'd get all irrational about it."

"I'm thinking he may have a new disguise," Gin said. "I've gotten word that he's been hanging round looking like a shopkeeper. The seedy sort. Straw hat and geta and loose jacket."

Adric frowned. "Doesn't he still have the beard?"

"Just a bit unshaven," Gin said, and hoped that this wasn't too far off what the Master fellow looked like.

"Oh. Oh well. I'll be careful." Adric positively skipped with eagerness. "Perhaps this time we'll stop him for good!"

"Uh huh," Gin agreed. He fondled the sonic screwdriver wistfully.

* * *

The Doctor roamed through the corridors of this Las Noches place. He'd found that everyone seemed to be in cowering terror of whoever this Ichimaru Gin person was, and frankly he considered it just a bit embarrassing. Couldn't he have swapped minds with someone who wasn't quite so dubious?

The worst of it was that nobody would talk to him. This was seriously hindering his plans to find out what was going on. Nor were there any computer terminals which he could hack into in order to find out the current plans for world dominations, or private studies (at least, not that he'd found yet) with concomitant secret diaries, or even explanatory briefing pamphlets for new recruits.

And he didn't know where Ichimaru Gin's own room was.

He found a side room and sat down in it, withdrawing the blade from his sash and resting it across his knees. Desperate times called for desperate measures. His keen Time Lord senses detected something on the order of a mental link between the blade and the body he was currently occupying. If he could tap into it, or communicate with the blade itself, then that should help him work out (a) what was going on here, (b) what to do about it, and (c) how to do it, preferably before (d) this Ichimaru Gin person did something unpleasant with his body and (e) he was held responsible, not to mention (f) the TARDIS being upset about the whole thing.

"All right," he murmured. "Anyone home?"

The feeling of a metal blade piercing directly through his frontal lobes and down into the brainstem was _almost_ (though not exactly) like the time he'd been held captive by the Degeneromancers and had them attempt to vivisect his brain with laser-scalpels, he pondered as he tilted backwards and hit the floor.

**WHO ARE YOU?** a voice demanded, echoing through the cavernous hollows of his skull in a way that he was sure would give him a headache later.

"The Doctor, actually," he subvocalised, "and I'd like to assure you that this is a strictly temporary arrangement."

A considering pause. **I WANT MY MASTER BACK AND I WANT HIM BACK _NOW_.**

"I quite understand your feelings," he reassured the invisible presence. "Care for a jellybaby? Sorry, ignore that, I'm feeling a little temporally confused at the moment."

**BABIES ARE WEAK AND VULNERABLE AND EASILY MANIPULATED.** The mental presence flashed a fin of interest above the surface of foreboding turmoil. **I DETECT A HIDDEN STRENGTH IN YOU.**

"Flatterer," the Doctor muttered.

**NO, REALLY. I FEEL THAT YOU WILL MAKE AN ADEQUATE TEMPORARY WIELDER UNTIL YOU HAVE REUNITED ME WITH MY MASTER.**

"Just purely out of interest, what happens then?"

**NATURALLY YOU WILL BE PERMITTED TO LEAVE WITH NO HINDRANCE. **The impression of smooth honest steeliness had a certain spuriousness to its patina.** WHY SHOULD WE HAVE ANY INTEREST IN DETAINING YOU?**

"Oh good. I'm delighted to hear it." He smiled at the empty air. "Now, I take it we don't want to tell Aizen about this?"

Another pause. **HE MIGHT . . . MISUNDERSTAND,** the presence stated. **IT WOULD BE EASIER TO EXPLAIN THE WHOLE THING AFTER I HAVE SORTED IT OUT AND REACQUIRED MY MASTER.**

"How convenient. So. Next question - how do we get to wherever my body is?"

**IF YOUR BODY IS IN THE LIVING-WORLD LOCATION MOST CLOSELY LINKED TO THIS, THEN IT IS IN KARAKURA. IT IS CONVENIENCE ITSELF TO OPEN UP A GATE THERE. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS -**

"Excuse me, Ichimaru-sama?" a timid voice said. "I'm very sorry to disturb your siesta."

The Doctor forced one eye open. A fragile-looking little girl in white with the bone half-mask that most of the people round here seemed to wear was kneeling next to him, head bowed and hands folded in her lap. "Yes?" he inquired.

"Aizen-sama requests your presence for tea," she blurted out in a single breath.

**FINE. I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING AFTER TEA.**

"Just coming," the Doctor said, levering himself upright. "And cucumber sandwiches?"

The girl flinched. "Cucumber sandwiches were not mentioned. Does Ichimaru-sama require cucumber sandwiches?"

"Don't worry about it," the Doctor said, and ruffled her hair. "I'm not going to execute you or anything."

"Thank you, Ichimaru-sama," she said meekly.

* * *

Tegan strolled along next to the cute little white-haired boy she'd met in the clothing shop. He'd been looking for someone else - an older sister, she assumed - but she'd commandeered him as an information resource. She was feeling very pleased with herself.

"So this place is called Karakura," she said, getting her facts straight. "And there's absolutely nothing weird going on here."

"Definitely not," the boy snapped. He was so utterly sweet when he was being feisty that she wanted to ruffle his hair. "Positively no weirdness, ghosts, Hollows, youkai, vampires, or supernatural entities of any sort here."

Tegan whistled. "You know awfully big words for a boy your age. Do you read a lot?"

"NO I DO - yes," he caught himself mid-shout. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "I read a lot."

"That's wonderful," Tegan reassured him. "You don't need to be embarrassed about it. One of my friends reads all the time. He's kind of lame when it comes to modern fiction, but the rest of it is all good, and he likes cricket too." She realised that she was wandering from the subject. "But if there's nothing weird going on here, then . . ."

"Then?" the boy asked, giving her a flash of those wide iceberg-green eyes again.

"Oh. Nothing." She shifted her bags from one hand to another. "You're awfully young to be going into grown-up clothing shops like that, you know? Someone might get totally the wrong idea. Should I take you to where your mommy and daddy are waiting for you?"

"That will not be necessary," the boy said with frozen precision.

"Don't be like that," Tegan said briskly. "I can't just leave you wandering round on your own. I - hey, doesn't it seem kind of cold all of a sudden?"

"No."

"Oh well." She smiled down at him. "Now where are your mommy and daddy . . . oh." She realised what it must be. "You should be at school, shouldn't you? And you're worried they'll find out."

There was a yell from behind them. "Captain!"

Tegan turned. An adolescent who looked more like a juvenile delinquent was running to catch up with them. He was bald. Positively bald. And he looked like the sort of specimen Tegan would expect to see, and in fact frequently had seen, loitering around aggressively with heavy-duty weaponry on megalomaniac-run alien planets. Not like someone school-age at all, unless he'd been held back for ten years due to fighting in the playground.

"Captain?" she repeated incredulously.

"Madarame!" the little boy said, with great relief in his voice.

The bald guy stared at her. "Um," he said. "It's a nickname for the kid, right? It's because of this tv show. My name's Madarame Ikkaku. Pleased to meet you."

"Oh." Tegan nodded. "Got it. I was just asking him where his parents were. Didn't like to leave him wandering around alone in the fashion shops. I'm Tegan Jovanka."

Madarame snickered. "That's nice of you, Jovanka-san. Not a lot of women would put themselves out like that for a brat like this -"

If Tegan hadn't known better, she would have thought that the boy positively growled.

"Anyhow," Madarame went on quickly, "I'll be glad to take him off your hands. See you round!"

"Hey," Tegan said before he could get away, "have Iyou/I seen anything odd recently round here?"

Madarame looked her square in the eye. "Absolutely nothing," he said. "Gotta go."

Tegan watched the pair of them run off down the street. That Madarame guy was a lousy liar. She ought to keep an eye on them, if only to get the poor kid out of any danger he might be in.

Thoughtfully, she wandered after them.

* * *

"Doctor," Adric asked plaintively, "I don't know much about earth fashion, but do people usually have feathers stuck in their eyebrows?"

Gin had noticed Ayasegawa Yumichika at the other end of the street, and had been doing his best to ignore him ever since. He was fairly sure that Ayasegawa wouldn't look twice at _them_. Unfortunately, Adric's remark meant that he had to take an interest. "Not usually," he said. "But I figure that there's gotta be some weird fashions in places."

Also and more irritating, Gin recognised one of the Arrancar approaching from another direction. Il Forte, pausing to check his hair in the glass of a window. Gin mentally marked the Arrancar down for a reprimand later for failing to notice enemy activity, or at least failing to take appropriate action, such as distracting Ayasegawa somehow and using the opportunity.

The two paced down the street towards each other.

"Doctor?" Adric said nervously. Apparently even he could feel the growing air of menace as shinigami and Arrancar eyed each other.

"Back, real slow," Gin murmured.

"A pitiful shinigami," Il Forte said coldly. "Prepare to meet a pitiful end."

Ayasegawa tossed his hair dramatically. "A minion of Aizen Sousuke. I look forward to purifying you and sending you on - except that it probably won't be a very interesting fight, since it'll be over so quickly."

Normally Gin would have stayed to watch, and issued critiques to the victor, or finished them off while they were weakened, depending on which side had won. Under current circumstances, however, he felt like being a bit more cautious. There was no way of knowing how much this body could stand, and he didn't have his zanpakutou. Not to mention the fact that the reiatsu disturbance of a fight would bring everyone running from across the whole town.

. . . in fact, it would, wouldn't it? And that'd probably include Urahara Kisuke. Leaving his shop open to innocent visitors.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing Adric by the shoulder and dragging him back into an alley he'd noted earlier. "I think we've got something to check up on."

* * *

Nyssa's quest for interesting time-space anomalies had somehow diverted itself into the nearest bookshop. Though their scientific section was rather lacking and definitely not up to Trakenite standards, the philosophy and history and poetry shelves had provided an interesting selection that was new to her. Moreover, she reassured herself, she would be able to combine returning to the TARDIS to deposit them safely in her bedroom with trying to cobble together some sort of device to track the emanations which were causing all the trouble.

She couldn't think why the Doctor hadn't suggested something like that in the first place. His accident must have shaken him up more than he was willing to admit.

"Excuse me," she said to the dark-skinned man checking his watch, as she squeezed through the exit. (It had been more efficient to buy the books and carry them in one load than return for a second trip.)

"Of course," he said, stepping out of the way. She had the impression that he was frowning at her from under his dark glasses. "Excuse me, but are you a stranger here? I don't think I recognise your accent."

"I'm from Traken," Nyssa said comfortably. She'd long ago come to terms with the fact that most humans filed it as "somewhere foreign" and forgot about it. "I'm just visiting here, and I had to stop by the bookshop."

"Very reasonable," the man agreed. He tapped the top book in the uppermost bag. "Basho?"

"His **Narrow Road to Oku**," Nyssa agreed. "I thought that haiku where he compares the rough sea to the Milky Way was remarkably outward-looking."

The man nodded. "A classic. And as for -"

"Oi!" A young man with flowing scarlet hair had appeared out of nowhere in particular and was pointing a trembling finger at them. "Tousen! You - you -"

"Is that your name?" Nyssa asked politely.

"Indeed. Tousen Kaname. Abarai-kun, do you mind? I'm discussing poetry with this young lady."

"Nyssa," Nyssa introduced herself.

"You're very kind. Now, Abarai, this is really not the time or place . . .

The red-haired young man grabbed Nyssa by the shoulder. "You mustn't stay here. You're in terrible danger."

Nyssa looked down her nose at him, despite the fact that he was several inches taller than her, and removed his hand delicately. "Abarai-san," she said, with all the hauteur of her upbringing, "I was not aware that you had been invited to join this conversation."

"But -"

"Indeed, I would be gratified if you would kindly remove yourself from our vicinity." Nyssa turned away from him, and gave her attention to Tousen again. "Now, about Basho . . ."

Abarai muttered something that Nyssa couldn't quite catch, about having thought that there was only one person with a stick that big up his ass in the world, and slouched off.

"Indeed," Tousen agreed. "By the way, are you interested in philosophy at all?"

"Very much so," Nyssa said, following him.

* * *

"So," Aizen said. "The usual?"

"If you would, please," the Doctor agreed.

Aizen poured tea for both of them. "Shall we go over the basics together?"

"By all means."

"Very well, then. Let's start at the beginning." Aizen smiled. "I know that you're not Ichimaru Gin."

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Really?"

"Really. Ichimaru Gin has served as my vice-captain for decades. It's quite obvious that there's someone else behind those eyes."

The Doctor considered cunning deceit as an option, then mentally shrugged and threw it out of the window. "I'm sure it can all be sorted out," he said hopefully.

Aizen steepled his fingers. "Would you like to identify yourself?"

"The Doctor."

Aizen blinked and sat back a little in his chair. "Unohana Retsu? Surely not."

"No no no." The Doctor put down his cup of tea and waved his hands. "Definitely not whoever that is. In fact, probably nobody you know in the first place. Think of it as a totally random accident, something that both sides want to see resolved as soon as possible."

"And not a directed strike against my forces by secretly replacing my second in command."

"Absolutely not a directed strike against your forces by secretly replacing your second in command."

"Mnh," Aizen said thoughtfully, and drank some of his tea. "I'm sure that you understand I'm considering having you imprisoned and questioned to verify this."

"As opposed to having me repair whatever it was that you were doing which caused the submesonic waves that accidentally exchanged my consciousness with your vice-captain's?"

"Please." Aizen put down his cup. "Give me credit for some intelligence. You'd obviously study the equipment, sabotage it, then escape while using the explosions as a diversion."

As this was precisely what the Doctor had been considering, he looked hurt but forgiving. "You have a better idea?"

Aizen smiled agreeably. "Certainly. Describe your actual body and whereabouts, and we'll bring them here and arrange an exchange."

The Doctor coughed. "With regard to your earlier statement . . ."

"The 'give me credit for some intelligence?' one?" Aizen asked, still smiling.

"Ah, yes. That would be the one."

"Then I think we're at a standstill."

The Doctor spread his hands. "I'm sure you appreciate my position."

"Oh, absolutely." Aizen poured them both more tea. "But in the meantime, I must ask you to consider yourself a prisoner here. It's probably best that we don't make this public knowledge, but any attempts to leave will be . . . regarded as unfortunate."

"Think nothing of it," the Doctor said generously. "I'm sure we'll manage very well."

He spared a moment to hope that none of his companions would try any rescue attempts. Not only was he perfectly capable of escaping on his own, thank you very much, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that this Aizen person was the intelligent sort of world-conquering megalomaniac.

And that was never good news.


	4. Chapter 4

**MIXED SPIRITS**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Tegan felt it like a detonation in the back of her head; a sound from across town, an explosion that only she could hear. It made her stagger, and she dropped her shopping while she caught her balance. Three scarves spilled out of the top of one of her bags in slow motion, in shades of grey, lavender, purple, as vivid as bruises.

Nobody else noticed. Nobody else reacted. A few people glanced at her curiously, but nobody moved to help her.

A flicker of motion caught her eye, and she looked up. Figures in dark robes were running along the rooftops in great sliding bounds, almost too fast for her eye to follow, and she was almost certain - no, she was quite certain - that she recognised two of them. The thug with the shaved head. The boy with white hair, his loose white surcoat flapping as he led the pack.

* * *

The Doctor stalked (he found this body had a tendency to stalk, rather than stride cheerfully) down the pale corridors of the palace. There was a decent possibility that he'd run into someone this way who could give him some useful answers. The sword had been quiet ever since the interview with Aizen, and he wasn't sure whether that meant it didn't mean to help him any more, or if it was just sulking. Still, random meandering had always served him well in the past. Why, he simply needed to turn a few more corners, and no doubt he would run across somewhere that would be both useful and educational!

The sign in front of him read **SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTATION. ENTRY ONLY BY PERMISSION OF SZAYEL APOLLO GRANTZ, EIGHTH ESPADA.**

That seemed to qualify. He donned this body's habitual smirk, and sauntered in.

A blinding glare of lightning hit the wall approximately 2.453 inches from his left shoulder.

"So sorry, Ichimaru-sama," one of the Arrancar people said. He had pink hair, glasses, an unpleasant smile of the sort that looked dangerously close to licking its lips, and a smoking pointer in one hand. "I am _terribly_ upset that you should have been in any way inconvenienced."

"Think nothing of it," the Doctor said, with a casual wave of his right hand. "I'm not the sort to go round taking petty revenges simply because you fired a lethal weapon at me. Am I?" he added curiously.

The pink-haired Arrancar swallowed. "Of course not," he said, looking less than happy. "You're well known for your liberality of, um. Everything, really."

"Good, good." The Doctor was fairly sure that wandering into the scientific experimentation territory of this place was exactly the sort of thing that Aizen didn't want him doing, and would react very strongly to once he found out about it. This meant he was on a rather limited time frame. He let his smile widen. "Now I'm sure that you can help me on this one. Got any way of monitoring or communicating with the team investigating Urahara?"

"Of course," the pink-haired Arrancar said, looking more cheerful. "My brother's on the team, and I've infested him with organisms that allow me to constantly monitor everything he does."

Normally the Doctor would have commented on this - commented loudly, at length, and possibly while banging his fist on something - but under the circumstances, he merely spared the absent brother a sympathetic thought, and nodded in as callous a manner as he could. "Demonstrate. Please."

With a flirt of his sleeves, the pink-haired Arrancar turned to a big screen that covered one wall, and pointed the gadget he was holding at it. Instead of the screen blowing up, a picture began to form in it. A blond Arrancar was facing off against a black-robed young man with feathers attached to his eyebrow, in the middle of a pleasant street of shops. None of the passers-by seemed to be paying any attention, though they were avoiding the area as if by instinct.

"Taking readings, Szayel-sama," one of the scuttling laboratory minions announced, manipulating a keyboard.

"Ahhhh," Szayel hissed. He leaned towards the screen, spreading his arms as though he wanted to embrace it. "One of the Eleventh Division. A mean-minded, petty, thoughtless brute whose sole interest is in combat, suitable for - _Ichimaru-sama, what are you doing to the circuitry? The delicate, delicate circuitry?_"

"Just having a look at it," the Doctor said. He'd knelt down next to what he rather thought was the tracking node, and was busy prying off the cover and examining the interior. It was full of logic solids and crystals and leashed energy arcs, but the whole thing made a certain degree of sense, and in fact wasn't unlike certain forms of computation he'd come across before. _Sword?_ he prodded mentally.

**YES?** the voice inside his head returned. **AND THE NAME IS SHINSOU, BY THE WAY.**

_Are you familiar with leashed-state energy-aura manipulation with projective and protective effects?_

There was a long pause, before the voice answered, **I KNOW SOMETHING OF MY MASTER'S KIDOU, IF THAT'S WHAT YOU MEAN.**

_Right. Kindly tell me if anything looks like blowing up._ "Relax," the Doctor said, directing a pleasant smile over his shoulder. For some reason, it made Szayel and all his minions flinch. "I'm just trying to improve the focus. This part here is the hyperspatial link connecting your viewing screen to your subject, correct?" He picked up a probe and tapped one of the crystals with it.

"Yes," Szayel agreed reluctantly, obviously wishing he could snatch the probe out of the Doctor's hand. "Simple correlatory matrix analogetic frequency harmonisation."

"Of course," the Doctor agreed. "Why, purely theoretically, if you fed enough energy into the thing, you could actually establish an open physical channel from here to where your brother is."

**YOU WANT THE WHITE LIGHTNING KIDOU,** Shinsou helpfully suggested. **I'LL FEED YOU THE WORDS AND GESTURES: IT'S NOT THE MOST POWERFUL ENERGY-PROJECTION KIDOU, BUT IT'LL BE THE EASIEST TO DIRECT ON THIS SCALE.**

Szayel pursed his lips. "Theoretically. Yes. But the strain of the passage on whoever tried it - not to mention that it might well disrupt the passage in itself, and break the frequency link to my brother, and you'd need to refine the focus -"

"Like this," the Doctor interrupted, making a couple of quick adjustments, then sliding the probe into place to cross-circuit a particular junction.

"Ichimaru-sama!" Szayel gasped. He gestured to his minions. "Ichimaru-sama, I cannot allow -"

**WHITE LIGHTNING,** Shinsou prompted in a stream of images.

"White Lightning," the Doctor whispered. A focused beam of crackling electricity jumped from his fingers and into the circuitry.

The low buzz of power rose to a high-pitched scream. A black hole opened in the centre of the viewing screen, spreading like rot in autumn, its edges hazy and shivering.

"Ichimaru-sama!" Szayel shrieked.

The Doctor jumped to his feet, raised his arms to protect his face, and ran into the black hole.

* * *

Tousen was actually enjoying himself. Purely and simply enjoying himself. It had been too long since he'd been able to talk to someone like this - someone rational, intelligent, pleasant, witty, charming . . .

He poured more tea for Nyssa with a pleasant sense of something which he belatedly recognised as contentment. Conversations with Aizen-sama were always rewarding and enriching experiences, of course, but talking with Ichimaru was like dancing through a minefield of innuendo and traps, while as for talking to the Arrancar . . .

There was a rush of reiatsu from across town. He glanced towards it, and saw Nyssa blink and look in that direction at the same time.

His heart sank. Surely she couldn't be a shinigami in a disguised gigai? No. His intuition couldn't be that wrong. He'd never met her before today, and yet this feeling of a consonance of souls, of sudden understanding, went past all understanding. But she clearly had a high reiatsu, or she wouldn't have reacted.

He quickly reviewed possibilities. He ought to go and investigate whatever was happening across town. But then again, it probably just meant that one of his Arrancar had run into one of the shinigami. The ensuing fight was unavoidable and would draw other shinigami as well. His arrival would only make matters worse and betray his presence to the shinigami.

It wasn't _his_ fault, he reassured himself. They had been ordered to stay out of matters.

In fact, if the fight drew other shinigami, then it might well leave Urahara's base unattended. This was the perfect opportunity to visit.

Nyssa blinked innocently at him, those sweet eyes huge and innocent under long lashes. She was a flower that needed to be protected with the full force of justice, he decided. A shy young sapling that must be guarded and allowed to grow. In fact - the answer came to him in a burst of light - she needed to be inducted into Aizen's forces. Her powers would be nurtured there. She would learn to serve justice just as he did. Her trusting, virtuous nature spoke to him. It was clear. It was perfect.

"Nyssa-san," he said, "I have a visit to make across town, but could I ask you to come with me? There are dangerous matters here in Karakura. I have things that I need to tell you."

Nyssa's lips parted in a small gasp. Then she nodded firmly, sincere and mature. "Of course, Tousen-san. Please. I'm very interested to hear what you have to tell me."

* * *

Ichigo leapt across the rooftops with Rukia, heading for the disturbance. It sounded like a fight, and right now he rather felt like a fight. Maybe they'd get lucky and it'd be Aizen leading a full invasion, and they could finally sort things out for once and all.

(He hadn't mentioned that to Rukia. She had a quite natural tendency to get disturbed about Aizen. It was just one of those things, he figured. Sure, Aizen had nearly cut him in half last time they'd met, but _this_ time he was quite confident he could win.)

"Oi!" a voice called from below. "You up there!"

Ichigo paused and looked at Rukia. "Do you know who that is?"

Rukia paused in turn and looked down. "It seems someone wants to talk to you," she said, not very helpfully.

There was a young woman staring up at them, waving one hand vigorously. Not a shinigami, not in shinigami clothing or anything, and a couple of bags of shopping at her feet. "Oi!" she called again. "You up there on the roof!"

"Perhaps she wants to talk to you," Ichigo said. "Look, you stay and deal with her while I -"

"Where are your manners?" Rukia demanded. She grabbed Ichigo's collar and leaped streetwards, tugging Ichigo along with her.

Ichigo landed with something of a thump, and pulled himself free of Rukia, mentally cursing the height difference. "You can see us?" he asked the woman.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously I can see you," she informed him, with the sort of tolerance for the feeble-minded that Ichigo usually extended to his father. "I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Rukia stepped forward and gave a little bow. "I do apologise," she said, pulling on polite manners like a glove. "Most people can't see us. I am Kuchiki Rukia, and my colleague here is Kurosaki Ichigo. Might I ask who you are?"

The woman did her best to imitate the bow. "I'm Tegan. Um, surname Jovanka, personal name Tegan, feel free to call me Tegan. Can I ask why this town has lots of people in black robes running round on the roofs? And why nobody else seems to see you?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Well, see, we're shinigami, and we fight Hollows, which are hungry ghost monsters, and right now there's a fight going on, and I don't want to be rude but can this wait till later?"

The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Big fight? Lots of action? People running in all directions screaming and stuff blowing up?"

"Of course not," Rukia said soothingly, just as Ichigo said, "Probably."

"Fine." The woman put her fists on her hips. "In that case I'm coming with you."

Ichigo squinted at her. She wasn't carrying any obvious weapons. Perhaps she was a kidou master or something.

"May I ask why?" Rukia said, still polite.

"Well, see, I've got this friend," the woman said. "And he's investigating some of the stuff that's going on here in this town, and you know, if there is a big fight and things blowing up, I can almost guarantee that he'll be there and wandering around getting involved in it. So if you don't mind -"

"It's a fight," Ichigo felt the need to point out. "Are you sure you want to be running into a fight?"

The woman shrugged. "No, actually, I think it's pretty stupid. But - one thing - there aren't any huge snakes here, are there?"

Ichigo and Rukia looked at each other. Rukia shrugged. Ichigo shrugged.

"Okay," the woman said, picking up her bags. "Let's go."

Ichigo tried to work out just when he'd lost command of the situation, and just why Rukia seemed so damn amused.

* * *

Gin peered round the street corner towards Urahara's base. He didn't think that'd shield him from any sort of serious observation, but habit died hard. And sure, it _looked_ like a cheap shop, but he knew it was a hell of a lot more than that. He wished there was a way to find out what was inside.

"It looks normal," Adric said dubiously.

Some way other than sending a minion in there, in the good old examine-the-corpse-afterwards-to-determine-the-defenses sort of way. He was kind of short on expendable minions at the moment, after all.

Gin tugged his hat down on his forehead, in what felt like a habitual gesture for the body. "I've got an idea," he said.

Five minutes later, the two of them were making their way down the street towards the shop, carrying large crates of milk cartons. Gin was agreeably surprised by this body's musculature. Not as weak as he'd been thinking.

"You - think - this - will - work, Doctor?" Adric panted.

"Worth a try," Gin said cheerfully. Aizen had mentioned that Shihouin Yoruichi liked her milk. He hadn't gone into how he knew about it, and Gin wasn't going to ask, but he figured that in that case, Urahara must have a heavy standing order from the nearby shops. A daytime delivery wouldn't sound too implausible. "Knock on the door, will you?"

"No spare hands," Adric gasped, nearly falling over.

Gin sighed. Why was he doomed to be served by idiots? Bracing his crates on his hip, he reached out to knock on the door.

A long pause. Gin occupied his time in thinking about the number of ways a milk carton could be turned into an offensive weapon. A pity there weren't many of them.

A little girl pushed the door open and looked gloomily up at them. She had long dark hair pulled back into a couple of tails, and an expression that seemed to say that the world had already done its worst but she knew there would be even more things going wrong that afternoon.

She blinked at them.

"Hello," Gin said benignly. "Milk delivery for Urahara Kisuke. Is he around?"

The little girl thought about that. "No," she said eventually.

"Well, shall we bring it inside for you? It'll need to go in the fridge, or it'll spoil."

The little girl thought again. "Yes," she finally said. "Follow me, please."

Trailing her broom, she drooped back inside, leaving the door open for Gin and Adric to follow.

Gin peered around under the brim of his hat as he penetrated the shop. Looked like Urahara didn't leave any of his important work lying around in the open, which was understandable but kind of a shame. They'd just have to get in a bit deeper. And the first step was to lose the little girl. Nobody else was around. Good. Better. Best.

Temptation presented itself in the form of a large walk-in fridge in the shop's kitchen. It was stacked full of out-of-date health products, but there was still room for the crates of milk. And for one small girl.

"Doctor!" Adric gasped in shock, as Gin finished wedging the door shut with a chair under the handle.

"We'll let her out later," Gin reassured him, inwardly cursing the boy's naivete. "A few minutes in the cold won't hurt her. Much. Besides, I figure she's actually a preprogrammed mod soul with anti-intruder weaponry who might have attacked us."

"Oh," Adric said. "She didn't look very dangerous."

"Worst sort," Gin said. He grabbed Adric's shoulder, and pulled him away from the fridge, before the boy could notice just how noisy the banging from inside was getting.

First things first. Find Urahara's private lab. There had to be something there which he could use to reverse-engineer a gate back to Hueco Mundo. He might not have his full capabilities, but he knew as much kidou as he ever had done, and . . . there were ways. And then - oh, then things would be interesting.

* * *

Nyssa followed gravely along beside Tousen, eyes downcast, pondering over what he'd told her.

Well, _obviously_ he was honest and sincere, but equally obviously he was the loyal-but-deceived minion of someone very dubious indeed. Nyssa knew all about the sort of people who went round promising bloodless revolutions ("with a minimum of necessary bloodshed") and planning to conquer the world and set up New Orders. She'd met several. It always ended in tears.

Clearly he needed to be shown his mistakes. But just for the moment, she wasn't going to argue with him. She'd nodded in all the right places and said that he deeply interested her and she would like to hear more about his beliefs and plans (and really, he was far less boring than some of the guests her father had had over for dinner). She'd expressed curiosity about where he was going next. She'd commented on how he definitely had a point.

Nyssa felt more than a bit guilty, but, she assured herself, it would pass, and in the meantime it was important to find out what was going on.

She was sure the Doctor would approve, when she caught up with him.

* * *

Hitsugaya and most of the shinigami in Karakura had gathered on the rooftop and were having a vigorous discussion about the ethics in interfering in an in-progress fight - namely, the one that Yumichika was having in the street below. The general opinion was that of course they weren't going to do such a thing.

(Unless, Hitsugaya privately decided, Yumichika started losing. Stupid Eleventh Division standards.)

Urahara Kisuke had settled on a nearby rooftop and was smoking a pipe while watching the fight, and waving at the shinigami every time they looked at him. It was offputting. It made it difficult to hold a strategy meeting.

"And now," Hitsugaya said, "would someone kindly tell me who this is and why she's here?" He pointed at the woman who Kurosaki and Kuchiki had dragged along with them. She was the one who'd cornered him earlier and had been asking awkward questions. "Is she a spy of Aizen?"

"Who's Aizen?" the woman asked blankly.

"I don't think so, Hitsugaya-taichou," Kuchiki said quickly. "I think she's just a bystander who can see what's going on and who's looking for a friend of hers who - what did you say he was called?"

"I didn't," the woman said crisply, "but let me go through the whole thing anyhow just so you can't say that I haven't told you. My name is Tegan. I have a friend called the Doctor who is sort of in charge of our transport, and if you had met him, you'd know who he is, trust me on this one. I've also got a friend called Adric who's good at maths and isn't much older than him," she pointed at Hitsugaya, "and a friend called Nyssa who's got dark curly hair and is sort of old-fashioned but really a nice person -"

Abarai Renji spluttered. "Wait. Wait. This Nyssa person, is she - you know, an aristo? Nose in the air? Thinks she knows best?"

Tegan frowned. "I don't know about her nose in the air, but she could come across that way if you've annoyed her. Why, what -"

"Fuck," Abarai said. "Hitsugaya-taichou, I hadn't had a chance to say this yet, but I saw Tousen earlier. And there was a girl with him who I think was this Nyssa person."

Hitsugaya stared thoughtfully at Tegan. "So. You're a new arrival in town, you just happen to be able to see us, and your friend just happens to be dealing with one of our enemies . . ." He let it trail off menacingly.

Tegan sniffed, completely failing to notice the tone of cold threat. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. You got a problem with that, shrimp?"

Hitsugaya was about to say something _very cutting indeed_ when there was a sudden explosion from the street below. Everyone turned to look, just in time to see a large dark hole open in mid-air between the two combatants (who went flying), and a white-clad figure come running through.

A very familiar white-clad figure.

"Ichimaru Gin!" Hitsugaya screamed. He drew his sword and leapt.

"Oh dear," Ichimaru Gin said, blinking.


	5. Chapter 5

**MIXED SPIRITS**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"No, really," the Doctor said. He dodged (astonishing speed this body had), holding up his empty hands. "I know this may be a little hard to believe, but I'm not who you think I am."

The white-haired young man facing him brandished his sword menacingly. The ambient temperature dropped by several degrees. "You aren't going to be able to talk your way out of this one."

"Take him alive, Captain!" a blonde woman called from the roof. Several people were standing up there. Including Tegan. Now how was it that Tegan always managed to end up in situations like this? "We need information!"

A complicated mixture of emotions played across the young man's face. "Is this some sort of gambit where you try to fool us into thinking you're betraying Aizen Sousuke?"

"No no no," the Doctor said. "Absolutely not. I'm not trying to _betray_ him, I just currently need to get something sorted out which doesn't involve him but that I think he'd like to be involved in." He smiled as warmly as possible.

"Does he always leer like that?" Tegan muttered to the girl standing next to her.

"Ah, Tegan!" the Doctor said with a cheerful wave. "You can vouch for me, can't you?"

The young man and woman standing next to Tegan both drew their swords and pointed them at Tegan. "You know Ichimaru-taichou?" the young woman demanded.

"Never met him before in my life," Tegan said.

* * *

Yoruichi pricked up her ears. There were strangers in the next room. One of them had enough control over his reiatsu to have suppressed it enough that she hadn't noticed him, and the other had only human-normal. Human-normal-ish. A cat's whisker of a difference either way.

Gloomily, she wondered if the police were visiting again. Memory wipes would only work so many times in dealing with accusations about explosions, odd late night visitors, and smuggling crates of illegal substances.

She stretched, rose from her cushion, stretched again, and sauntered to the door to peer around the corner.

The man and the boy in the room next door were both strangers. They certainly weren't Arrancar (unless Aizen had suddenly developed a way of getting the Arrancar to dress in colours other than white) or shinigami.

The boy turned, saw her, and jumped. "Doctor! It's a cat!"

"Well, of course it's a cat," the blond man said calmly. He gave her a charming smile that had, when Yoruichi considered it carefully, just a shadow of edginess around the corners. "Go back to sleep, pussy. Ain't nobody here but us visitors."

"What visitors?" Yoruichi demanded. (After all, if they were just normal visitors who'd somehow managed to wander in, either (a) Kisuke would remove their memories, or (b) nobody would believe their stories about a talking cat anyhow.)

"It talks!" the boy yelped, and hid behind the blond man.

"Do you know what this is?" the man said, pulling a small metal contraption about the size of a screwdriver from his pocket.

"No," Yoruichi said. She twitched her whiskers at it. It didn't smell like a zanpakutou.

"Oh." The man put it back again. "Well, that's a problem, 'cause I was wanting to ask Urahara Kisuke about it. Guess he's not here. I don't suppose I could wait a while?"

Yoruichi scratched her left shoulder with her right hind leg thoughtfully. Part of being Captain of Second Division and Covert Operations of the Gotei 13, et patati, et patata, was the ability to spot the obvious when it turned up in front of her. And at the moment, the obvious was that this bland stranger, while not betraying anything of Ichimaru Gin's reiatsu, looks, or smirking, had his speech pattern in spades. Her keen sense for the suspicious was firing on all cylinders.

She was distracted by a noise from upstairs that sounded remarkably like a fridge door being blown off its hinges. The smell of spilled milk wafted to her nostrils, and she sniffed appreciatively before she could stop herself.

"Oops," the boy said, looking very guilty.

It was a choice between investigating an immediate catastrophe, or sitting here and watching these intruders. With a mental curse at Kisuke's ability to always be unavailable when he was most needed, Yoruichi pounced out of the room and flashed up the stairs like a black streak of lightning.

* * *

Gin would have spent longer looking for Urahara's secret laboratories (he was sure that Urahara must have secret laboratories, everyone had secret laboratories) but running into Shihouin Yoruichi put a damper on things. He'd hoped that she'd been out and about with Urahara Kisuke. Wasn't getting involved in fights together one of the things that made a couple a couple?

The important thing about plans of attack, he had decided long ago, was knowing when to drop them when things started going pear-shaped, and when to fight again another day. "C'mon," he said, grasping Adric's arm. "Time to relocate."

"But, Doctor," the boy protested. "Who was that cat and why was it able to talk? Is it helping the Master? Shouldn't we explore deeper -"

"The time for asking all these questions," Gin said, dragging him along, "is when there ain't explosions going off upstairs."

He still had hopes of turning Adric into a useful subordinate, but the boy simply had to learn the proper time for asking questions.

It was at that moment that Tsukabishi Tessai flew past them and down another flight of stairs, crashing on the landing and sliding to hit the opposite wall.

Adric gasped, broke free of Gin's grip, and scrambled down to check that the man was still breathing. With a inward sigh about the need for a_ lot_ of training on timing, Gin followed him.

Tessai blinked several times. One of the lenses of his glasses was cracked across. "It was the fridge," he said dazedly.

"Lie still," Adric told him. "You may have hurt something. Doctor, is he okay?"

Gin knew it'd take a lot more than that to seriously injure someone of Tessai's level of power, but he wanted to keep his cover, so he knelt down by the man and checked his pulse. "What was the fridge?" he asked curiously.

"Someone put her in the fridge," Tessai said. He blinked again. "Subzero intracerebral pinpoint haemorrhaging cross-flow kidou intersection inter-utilisation pathway dysfunctional communication. The fridge is bad."

Adric looked at Gin, mouth open.

"Brain freeze go boom," Gin translated. What a fascinating discovery! Now could he arrange to perhaps have Urahara Kisuke stuffed in a freezer, along with all his fellow annoyances . . . wait, that was a thought for later, and this was a moment for decisive action. "We're here looking for Urahara Kisuke," he said. "Can we do anything to help?"

"This may not be quite the time, good customer," Tessai said, managing to raise himself half upright. "I'm afraid the proprietor is currently not in the shop, but I'll be glad to tell him that you called." There was another crash from upstairs. "If you'll excuse me just a moment, please."

"Of course," Gin said, and let Tessai head towards the commotion.

"That wasn't our fault, Doctor, was it?" Adric asked nervously.

"Adric," Gin said, hauling the boy towards the exit, "if you're going to be my second in command, you're going to have to start worrying less about the whole fault thing and more about when to run."

* * *

"Look," the Doctor said, trying not to sigh, "I'm not this Ichimaru Gin person. I am actually someone else accidentally possessing his body. People call me the Doctor."

Silence.

"And I can prove it."

More dead silence.

"Tegan, you keep on wanting me to take you to Heathrow and displaying a _quite unwarranted_ hostility to discovering more about the universe."

"That sounds like the Doctor," Tegan said, "but . . ." She hesitated. "There is this other person who knows that about me too."

"No," the Doctor said, with a certain amount of irritation. "I am not the Master. I have never been the Master. I do not intend to ever be the Master. If I were the Master, I would have come up with a much more effective plot, even if it would no doubt be machiavellian, complicated, and besides, while the Master may know about Heathrow, I don't believe he's ever heard you complaining about educational travel elsewhere in the universe."

"It doesn't _sound_ like Gin," the blonde woman said. She hopped down from the roof to stand next to the white-haired young man.

"It's some sort of attempt to confuse us," the young man said, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

**NOW!** Shinsou demanded. **DRAW ME AND STRIKE THEM BOTH DOWN WHILE THEY'RE DISTRACTED! THEN . . .** It trailed off as it became aware of the Doctor's growing rejection. **THEN YOU'LL HAVE THE UPPER HAND WHEN IT COMES TO NEGOTIATING FOR SWAPPING BODIES,** it offered hopefully.

The Doctor folded his arms meaningfully, partly to demonstrate his harmlessness, and partly to make sure that Shinsou didn't try anything. "While I haven't met this Ichimaru Gin person, I realise that he doesn't seem to have a very good reputation round here -"

"He's - that is, you're a damn traitor and murderer and we'd have to be a fool to trust you just because you're claiming to be someone else!" the red-haired man with tattoos shouted.

"I'm sure this sort of thing can be tested," said the lounging man with the hat and sandals. "In fact -"

"Not a problem," the blonde woman said. She sashayed forward in a single movement and slammed the Doctor to the ground, landing on top of him and sealing his mouth with the sort of kiss that was lethal in ten planets, illegal in many more, and the sort of thing that the Doctor just _knew_ Tegan was going to be bringing up in future conversations as often as possible.

"This is really very generous of you," the Doctor said when she released him. Thank heavens that he had a respiratory bypass system. "And I don't want to seem at all rude, but I'd rather like to find this Ichimaru Gin person and arrange for a body exchange. You see -"

"I don't believe it," the white-haired young man said.

"Nor do I," the redhead said. "Holy shit. He's still able to talk and his eyes aren't crossing."

"I was referring to Matsumoto's behaviour," the young man snapped. "Matsumoto, how you could -"

"It's not Gin, Captain," the blonde said hastily, clambering off the Doctor. "I know. Believe me."

"Tegan, you have got this Gin person in my body subdued, I hope?" the Doctor demanded. "I realise that you might have had some problems, but between you and Adric and Nyssa . . ." He trailed off as he saw the expression on her face. "You did _notice_ that something was wrong, didn't you?"

Tegan put her balled fists on her hips. "He acted just like you! Mostly. We figured it was just another of those post-regeneration trauma things! He didn't go round trying to stab anyone or kill anyone or even act _that_ unusual, he just said that he wanted to investigate things and that his memory was a little hazy and could we tell him who we were and what was going on!"

"Oh, Tegan," the Doctor sighed.

"Of course, if you _want_ us to go round knocking you out and chaining you up whenever you act a bit weird, just give the word." She sniffed.

The white-haired young man sighed. "Look - if you are really this Doctor person, and not Ichimaru Gin, I'll compromise. Give us that zanpakutou you're carrying and we'll hold onto it."

**NOOOOOOO!** Shinsou shrieked at the back of the Doctor's head.** YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!**

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. "Would you settle for binding it in the sheath so that I can't draw it?" he asked. "I don't think it'll cooperate if I give it to you, but it does have a vested interest in getting its proper user back, and it could be useful."

The blonde glanced at the white-haired young man, waited till he gave a reluctant nod, and pulled off her pink scarf and tossed it to the Doctor. "There you go."

"Most kind," the Doctor said, knotting it firmly round Shinsou's hilt and scabbard. "Thank you. Now, Tegan, where exactly is everyone?"

"Well, Nyssa went off to look round town, and Adric's with . . ." Tegan trailed off. "With you," she finished lamely.

"What? You let him go off with a devious mass murderer -"

"He's not a mass murderer," the blonde woman said wearily. "I mean, how many people does it take to make a mass murderer?"

"Excuse me," the man with the feathers stuck to his eyebrow said.

"Look," the redheaded man with tattoos said, "if this Nyssa person of yours is innocent, besides being -" The girl standing next to him kicked his ankle. He coughed. "Last time I saw her, she was with Tousen Kaname."

The Doctor took a deep breath. "This would be the Tousen who is right-hand-man to the villainous Aizen, currently on a mission to this town, _and you let Nyssa go off with him_?"

"," the redhead muttered.

"_Excuse_ me," the man with the feathered eyebrow repeated again. "Leaving aside any reasonable complaints that my duel, my very own duel, was interrupted, I have to point out that the Arrancar who got away is probably reporting all these goings-on, including his arrival," he gestured at the Doctor, "to Aizen Sousuke any minute now."

"That's a good point," the man in the hat and clogs said cheerfully. "I suggest we take this discussion to my shop."

"Where's your shop?" the Doctor asked.

There was an explosion in the distance. Huge clouds of billowing smoke rose above the rooftops.

"Three guesses," the blonde woman said.

* * *

Tousen's arrival at Urahara's shop was coincidental with Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, and a battered-looking Il Forte all turning up from different directions, no doubt drawn by the explosions. He gestured Nyssa to stand back while he debriefed his men.

"The town is full of trash," Ulquiorra reported.

"Total fucking trash," Grimmjow agreed. He flipped a thumb at Nyssa. "And where did you get the piece of skirt?"

"Ichimaru Gin's gone insane," Il Forte said. Smoke rose in coils from parts of his clothing that were still smouldering. "He came jumping out of nowhere when I was fighting a shinigami, and then he stood there talking to the other shinigami who were there. He's turned traitor, Tousen-sama." There was more than a hint of smugness to his voice. No doubt he was already envisaging his ascent to the newly-available place at Aizen-sama's side.

Tousen frowned. It could be a scheme of Aizen-sama that he didn't know about. But would Aizen-sama really do something this complex? More to the point, would Aizen-sama even bother with trying to get Ichimaru accepted back into Soul Society? The odds on anyone believing it were slim to none. "Did you hear what they said?" he asked.

Il Forte shrugged. "Something with Ichimaru claiming he wasn't really Ichimaru."

Ah, the classic brainwashing defense. Tousen considered. "Perhaps if we -" he began.

Another explosion from the shop interrupted him. Two people came running out, a man in pale clothing dragging a boy. With a snort, Grimmjow raised his hand to level the two with a casual cero.

"No!" Nyssa screamed. She threw herself at Grimmjow, and he swatted her to the ground. "Tousen-san, please -"

"Hold fire," Tousen said to Grimmjow. He ignored the Espada's insubordinate mutter of _wimps never give me any fun_, bending to lift Nyssa to her feet. "Nyssa, what is it?"

"That's the Doctor!" Nyssa gasped. "My friend! And that's Adric! Please don't kill them!"

"Your friends?" Tousen said. He surveyed the man and boy thoughtfully. Perhaps, if they shared Nyssa's sensitivity, they could also be of use to Aizen-sama. And if not - well, one didn't actually _have_ to execute the pair in front of her. "What are they doing in Urahara Kisuke's shop?"

"Um." Nyssa hesitated. "The Doctor was probably investigating. If this Urahara person is in league with the corrupt Soul Society people you told me about, then that'd explain why he's been blowing the place up!"

Tousen couldn't find anything to argue with in that statement. "Stay here," he told her, and flash stepped across to the man and boy. "You. Doctor?"

"Uh huh," the Doctor said. "Kaname, we need to talk real fast."

* * *

Adric was beginning to be a little uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Doctor. He trusted the Doctor absolutely. Mostly. Almost all the time. And it wasn't as if the Doctor didn't have moments when he was incomprehensible to everyone else (including other Time Lords and robot dogs). So really, Adric shouldn't get quite so worried. Even though the Doctor had waved him off in order to talk to this Kaname person in private. Perhaps they were old friends.

Just like the Doctor's _other_ old friends, maybe. Like the Master.

And maybe the way everyone was wearing swords was just a local fashion.

And maybe they were in trouble.

"What's going on?" he asked Nyssa.

Nyssa had the little crease between her brows which meant that she was very worried but trying not to show it. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she demanded. "What were all those explosions?"

"Oh." Adric flushed. "We locked this girl in the fridge but it's okay because she was actually more of an antipersonnel device, except then she blew up and we had to leave. And there's a talking cat in there."

"Cats don't talk, Adric," Nyssa said patronisingly.

"Statistical evidence shows that at least one does," Adric snapped back. "Because I met him. And who's he?" He pointed at the Kaname person.

"Tousen-san is this person I met in town," Nyssa said. She gave him a very hard look. "We've been talking about things and I'm sure I couldn't possibly disagree with him."

Adric was fairly sure that he should be picking up a hint of some sort from this, but he wasn't sure whether it was _the man's a dangerous lunatic, agree with everything he says then run when his back's turned_ or _I've been convinced that he's a wonderful man and don't you dare argue with me_. All things considered, he suspected the first was more likely.

"Oh," he said, and looked around for exits. The three sword-wearing men who'd been reporting to Tousen were uncomfortably near.

"Do you really expect me to believe a ridiculous story like that?" Tousen demanded, raising his voice.

The Doctor made soothing motions with his hands, and then leaned in to murmur something very softly. His eyes were half-slitted shut. It made him look oddly untrustworthy.

Air rushed past him and cracked like thunder. There was a new group of people standing at the other side of the street: all of them were in black and white, wearing swords. And Tegan was with them.

* * *

The Doctor assessed the situation in a glance. Good. Everyone who was involved in the problem was here. Hopefully a bit of talk could sort things out, and he could get his own body back, and then maybe find out a little more about precisely what was going on here, and maybe -

"There he is!" one of the half-masked men in white yelled, pointing at him. "I told you he'd turned traitor!"

**IF WE STRIKE NOW WITH TOUSEN'S AID,** Shinsou suggested, **WE CAN WIPE OUT THE SEIREITAI PRESENCE IN KARAKURA AND PLEASE AIZEN-SAMA. I'M SURE THIS WOULD BE HELPFUL IN GETTING YOUR BODY BACK.**

The Doctor ignored Shinsou firmly, and stepped forward, ignoring Rangiku's (she'd introduced herself and all the others) attempt to haul him back. "Ichimaru Gin," he said.

"Speaking as an interested party," the man in his body answered, "I'd like to know what you've been up to. Ichimaru Gin."

It was strange, looking at his own face in this way. The slight changes in posture, the curve of the shoulders and the droop of a hand to hover near a sword hilt that wasn't there, the balanced stance, the lowered eyelids . . . all of it together was so different from the reincarnation that he'd got to know in his mirror. "Both of us know which of us is which," he said. "Now I'm as anxious for a resolution as you are, so if we can just work out a way to get us back into our own bodies . . ."

Adric and Nyssa were looking at him, then at his possessed body, then at him again. He could see the dawning realisation in their faces.

"Well, now," the man in his body answered, "I wouldn't have any objection to that. So if you come along with us -"

"Absolutely out of the question," Hitsugaya snapped. "Ichimaru Gin's body stays in our custody."

"Excuse me," the Doctor said. "I am _in_ this body, you know."

"I'm sure that we'll be able to work out a way to get you out of it," Hitsugaya said calmly. "Won't you, Urahara Kisuke?"

Urahara shrugged. "Probably, given time - and assuming my shop's still standing after this."

Another boom, surprisingly deep and hollow, came from the interior of the shop.

"Now wait just one minute." The Doctor stepped forward and pointed a finger at Hitsugaya. "I absolutely refuse to let you play games with my body and my friends' safety just because I happen to have become involved in some petty war of yours."

Hitsugaya nodded, once. "Madarame," he said.

The Doctor felt the rush of air from behind, and sidestepped it with an unexpected fluidity and speed. Madarame Ikkaku's staff cracked into the ground where he'd been standing. "And having me knocked out and carried away for my own safety is hardly appropriate behaviour -" he began, then had to dodge a blow from Ayasegawa Yumichika. "Not to mention that I am _trying_ to conduct some rather difficult negotiations here -" He dodged again. "Look, can you please stop trying to hit me!"

"Captain," Rangiku said softly, "he does have Gin's reflexes. But he hasn't tried to draw his zanpakutou."

A sizzling, tearing sound cut the fight short. Tousen had raised one hand, and a great dark rip was forming in the air behind him, as gaping and menacing as a giant pair of open jaws. "I have heard enough," he said. "Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Il Forte. Retreat."

Nyssa and Adric glanced at each other again, and began to sidle backwards and away in a truly impressive display of simultaneous separate evasion.

"Wait a moment," Gin protested. "We ain't finished negotiating."

Tousen nodded to the bone-masked man he'd addressed as Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra grabbed Gin by the shoulder, and dragged him through the air rip in a single motion, vanishing into darkness with him.

"No!" the Doctor shouted. "Bring me back here!"

"You will be contacted," Tousen said. Without looking round, he stepped sideways in a flash of motion, and caught Nyssa up under one arm. One of his other subordinates grabbed Adric. "Don't try to follow us."

The Doctor could follow their motions; just as they were moving faster than the normal eye could follow, so his perception (this Ichimaru Gin's perception, rather) was quick enough to match them. He saw Nyssa's mouth beginning to open in a scream, saw Adric starting to kick and bite, saw them both dragged through the closing rip and into the shadows before he could turn that speed into decision and go after them.

Air clanged and rippled as the hole closed, trembling like the aftershock of thunder.

* * *

"Doctor?" Tegan said tentatively.

"Damn it," Hitsugaya said. "He got away. Again." His brows were knotted in furious thought. "Maybe if we lay an ambush for when he comes back - oh, don't worry," he added hastily in an attempt at reassuring afterthought, "I'm sure we'll find a way to get your body back."

"And my friends," the Doctor said through gritted teeth.

"Well, it's not as if they could be any real use to Aizen, could they? So he'll just keep them as hostages."

Renji nodded. "He's sneaky that way."

The Doctor decided that this was not the best time to go into details on how a galactically trained biochemist or a particularly gifted (if somewhat adolescent) mathematical genius could be useful to Aizen Sousuke. "How do we get after them?" he demanded.

Urahara pulled thoughtfully at the brim of his hat. "Well. I might be able to create an opening into Hueco Mundo, but it'll take a few days to create, and of course there are certain political and military disadvantages to attempting an unsupported expedition down there."

The shinigami were looking at each other. "I appreciate your concern for your friends, Doctor," Rukia said, "but strategically speaking, they'd be expecting you."

"I have to get down there somewhere," the Doctor said. He began to pace. "I can't use the TARDIS: the key's in my pocket and currently my pocket's on my coat and my coat's on my body and my body's on Ichimaru Gin and in Hueco Mundo. Maybe if I could see your laboratory?" He gave his most charming, friendly smile to Urahara Kisuke, and regretted it as everyone flinched.

"Doctor," Tegan said.

"No, Tegan," the Doctor said, "you can't come."

"That's not it." She was frowning. "I think - yes, I'm fairly sure . . ."

"What?"

Tegan was smirking in a way that made the Doctor fear for her future passengers. (He was going to get her to Heathrow any day now. Really.) "I think that when we all left the TARDIS earlier, that Ichimaru Gin person wasn't used to being you."

"Why?" the Doctor demanded.

"Because," Tegan said, "he forgot to lock the door."


End file.
